


les polichinelles

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dorks in Love, Fluff and Humor, M/M, exactly the story you think it is probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 12:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17100749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: Auston and Mitch are too in love with each other to make smart decisions.At least they're cute about it.(The One With The Cannon Dolls)





	les polichinelles

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> Thanks to Dean, Tori, Ash, and Christa for reading this over! Written between 2AM and 6AM over the course of two nights. Any remaining typos are my own. 
> 
> [just in case you didn't know, mitch and auston made a guest appearance as cannon dolls in the nutcracker a few days ago](https://twitter.com/nationalballet/status/1075808859602739202).

Discretion has never exactly been Mitch Marner’s strong suit, and honestly, it’s never been Auston’s either. Or, like, it can be, but when it’s not, it’s  _ really  _ not— if he shows a feeling, he broadcasts it, and consequently, everyone within a ten mile radius can probably see it plain as day. 

Mitch, on the other hand, can be a little more selective. He’s pretty open about everything to the people he’s open  _ with,  _ but there are plenty of people who know Mitch without actually knowing anything about him. It’s probably how he can stand to have so many friends, Auston figures. When it comes time for Mitch to deal with genuine emotions, most people are kept at arms length. 

The thing is, one of the things that Auston’s never been good at hiding is— well, it’s  _ Mitch.  _ Or, like, his  _ thing  _ for Mitch, which isn’t so much one monolithic crush as it is a series of interconnected feelings, all of which occasionally swirl together in Auston’s chest and threaten to burst out of him at any moment. Looking back, Auston can see them written pretty obviously all over his face, in every picture of the two of them together, or any interview where someone had asked him something that he’d managed to connect back to Mitch. They’re all very strong feelings, and once upon a time, Auston had thought they were pretty scary.

These days, Auston mostly enjoys his feelings, because, as it turns out, Mitch has some similar ones. 

It’s going great. 

Mitch is amazing, of course— he’s always been an amazing friend, and that translates pretty easily into him being amazing at being more than friends. He’s still got the same boundless energy, but now, he channels it into showing Auston how much he cares, which is pretty fun. 

“I used to hold back,” he tells Auston, when Auston points this out to him. “Tried not to be too extra. So you’d think I was cool, y’know.” 

“Well, you’re not really cool at all, and you’re definitely pretty extra,” Auston says, then leans in to kiss Mitch, because it sends the same message as saying,  _ but I like you anyway,  _ but has the added bonus of him getting his hands on Mitch, so it’s clearly the better option. 

Mitch laughs, bats him away. “Well, you’re worse.” 

“I’m not gonna deny that,” Auston says, because honestly? Mitch isn’t wrong.

Auston knows he can come off as sort of aloof, at first, and there are some people who bring out that side of him. Mitch has never been one of those people. In fact, Mitch makes Auston feel sorry for that side of himself, because Auston may smile like a dork if anyone so much as mentions Mitch’s name, but— it’s fun being a dork, okay? It’s especially fun when Auston and Mitch get to be dorks together, and now, they get to be dorks  _ together- _ together _ ,  _ which is pretty much Auston’s idea of a perfect relationship. 

The only problem—and really, ‘problem’ is a relative term—is that the whole being together thing is new enough that they haven’t actually gotten around to telling their teammates about it. 

And, okay, maybe there’s more than one problem, because Auston’s not sure what the timeline for telling them is, beyond ‘soon’, and he’s also not sure what exactly there is to tell. They’re a  _ thing,  _ but labels beyond that are— murky, to say the least. They go on dates, and they don’t go on dates with other people, and they hook up, and they don’t hook up with other people, but beyond that, there’s been no mention of “boyfriends” or “dating” or… anything that could constitute any sort of label, really. 

Auston knows they’re a thing, and he trusts Mitch, but they just— haven’t gotten around to hashing out the details, and Auston thinks they don’t really need to. They trust each other. They’re  _ happy.  _ The rest is just— formalities and red tape. 

It’s not the world’s biggest secret. Again, Auston’s pretty sure that his feelings for Mitch are visible in photos of the Earth taken by satellites. And Mitch has been affectionate, or whatever. It’s just that the nitty-gritty, fine print details haven’t been clearly delineated to everyone around them. They haven’t sent out a memo, and they don’t want people asking questions or getting nosy, so they’re keeping it on the down low. 

It’s not the same as hiding. It may be similar, but it’s not the same. 

…… 

Auston’s in the Nutcracker because Mitch had wanted them to be. 

It’s as simple as that. The two of them had been asked, and Mitch had smiled and said yes, so Auston did the same. 

Then, it got a bit more complicated. 

Look. Auston knows couples fight, and he and Mitch are probably a couple, so that was always going to happen. It’s just that fighting with Mitch is fucking weird, because Mitch doesn’t actually get mad. Or, like, he does, but he doesn’t let you know that he’s mad, and then you don’t know what he’s mad about or what you can do to fix it. 

And it’s not like Auston’s gonna ask. He’s not even sure if anything  _ is _ wrong; Mitch could have plenty of reasons for cancelling dinner twice in the last week and a half. He’s got his own life, and Auston respects that, but the cancelled plans combined with the fact that he’s dodging Auston’s questions about the holidays— 

Okay, obviously something is up. Auston just hopes that it’s Mitch being mad, and not something worse. Mitch being mad isn’t ideal, but it’s better than any of the other places Auston’s mind is going.

Logically speaking, it’s probably that Mitch is mad. 

Right now, though, Mitch is acting perfectly normal— bouncing around backstage, chattering with the people doing hair and makeup, documenting everything in snaps and stories. Auston takes one of Mitch walking into their dressing room, and Mitch takes a selfie of Auston fixing his hair, and the whole thing is super fun, enough that Auston forgets about the overwhelming anxiety that’s been eating at him since the Mom’s Trip. 

“So, Matthews,” says the woman currently informing them what their actual role in this dance is gonna be. “Can you lift him?” 

“Pfft,” Mitch says, before Auston gets a chance to. “Have you seen him? Dude could bench press a house if he wanted to.” 

“I think that’d damage the house,” Auston says, wry. “We could switch roles. You gave me a piggyback ride last week.” 

“I’m not going to try and lift you onstage, dude.” 

“This isn’t a piggyback ride,” the woman says. “It’s more of a—” She puts her arms out straight in front of her, hands turned up. 

“Bridal style,” Mitch says, nodding. 

Auston is suddenly very on board with carrying him. 

It’s actually a pretty easy lift, because Mitch gets a running start, then does half the work himself because he’s worried about Auston’s shoulder. 

It’s more than a little endearing. 

“Just so you know,” Mitch says, “this is easily the best way to get from place to place.” 

“I’m sure,” Auston says. 

“You should start carrying me everywhere. I think that’s a great next step for us,” Mitch says, and a few things go through Auston’s mind in rapid succession: the fact that Mitch just said ‘us’, the fact that he’d talked about a next step, the fact that there are people here who had heard him say it, the fact that ‘us’ isn’t super revealing, the fact that ‘us’ doesn’t mean nothing, either. 

Auston files all of it away to examine at a later date. “And what do I get out of it?” 

“The same thing you always get, the pleasure of my company,” Mitch says, grinning, and that’s— definitely flirting. Almost definitely. Probably. Possibly. 

No, definitely— that’s a flirting smile, Auston’s sure. 

“Compelling offer,” Auston says, pressing his forehead into the crook of Mitch’s neck for a second, because it’s right there, and Mitch seems to welcome it, even turns his head so that his lips are sort of— pressing into Auston’s head. 

It may or may not be a kiss. It probably looks like a kiss. Auston doesn’t mind Mitch kissing his head in front of people, but it does make him think that they should, like, talk about it. 

…… 

Mitch is playing hot and cold tonight, apparently. He’s been doing it all week, but he’s picked up the pace over the last few hours. 

Auston isn’t a fan of it, because it’s fucking confusing, and not at all productive. One second Mitch is jumping into his arms and being all cute, and the next, he’ll barely say a word to Auston in their dressing room, and really, Auston just wants to know what the fuck is going on. He likes Mitch; he wants him to be happy. He is willing to go to great lengths to make that happen, but Mitch won’t tell him how, and it’s pretty fucking frustrating, to say the least.

“Is everything… all right?” Auston asks, because it’s clearly not, and it’s a little ridiculous that they’ve made it this far without talking about it. 

Mitch just shrugs. “Sure.” 

Jesus fucking— “Dude.”

“What?” 

“You’re being weird,” Auston says. “And, like, it’s not the first time. What’s going on?” 

“It’s nothing,” Mitch says. “It’s just— stage fright.” 

“Stage fright,” Auston echoes, skeptical. 

Mitch nods. “Yeah, like, it’s the National Ballet, y’know? My parents are out there, and stuff.”

Stage fright doesn’t account for the last few weeks, but Auston figures he probably shouldn’t accuse Mitch of lying. “I don’t think anyone expects us to be great, dude. I’m pretty sure it’s better if we look ridiculous.” 

“Yeah, but it’s still—” Mitch shakes his head a little. “Forget it, it’s dumb.” 

“Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” 

“That,” Auston says, pointing vaguely in Mitch’s direction. “Ignoring me. Or, like, brushing me off.” 

“I’m not—” 

“You are, and it’s— what’s going on, Mitchy?” Auston says, and his voice is both angrier and more pathetic than he’d like it to be, but apparently it’s effective, because Mitch’s expression shifts into something genuine, more nervous. 

“I guess it’s just— does your mom know?” 

Auston blinks. “What, about the ballet?” 

“No, about—” Mitch gestures between the two of them. 

“Oh,” Auston says. The truth is that she does, because Auston’s awful at keeping secrets from his mother, and she prides herself on knowing Auston’s smile inside and out. She’d spotted Auston’s feelings so easily that it made Auston almost thankful that she lives so far away, because he can only handle so many knowing looks.  

“Because my mom does,” Mitch says, so fast Auston almost misses it. “But she doesn’t— she thinks— like, I know you don’t like labels, but, you know, she’s my mom, so—” 

“I don’t not like labels,” Auston says, and he knows that Mitch is saying other stuff, stuff that might clear up whatever the fuck’s been up with him this week, but his brain is too stuck on the labels thing to process the rest of it. “I’m fine with labels. Labels are great.” 

“You— what? Then why— I mean, are we not—”

“No, we are,” Auston says, even though he doesn’t know how Mitch had planned to end that sentence. “Or, we are if you think we are.” 

“Are what?” 

“Are— uh, labeled,” Auston says. “Like, there’s a label for… us.” 

“Right,” Mitch says. “And that label is…”

Auston waits for Mitch to finish the sentence, but after a second, he realizes he’s meant to fill in the blank. 

“Um— well, I mean—” 

“Do you want to just talk about this after we’re done?” Mitch says. He looks like Auston feels, which is like he’d rather be doing anything else in the world than having a conversation about their relationship with no warning while wearing clown costumes. 

“Yeah,” Auston says. “As long as we’re cool.” 

“We’re cool,” Mitch says quickly. “It’s just— it’s only labels, right? It’s not a big deal.” 

“I guess not.”

“You guess?” 

“It’s not,” Auston amends, and then he hesitates for a second before he clarifies. “I was just being cheesy.” 

“Cheesy?” Mitch has a glint in his eye that’s both good news and bad news; the world makes a little more sense when Mitch is looking at Auston like this, but it also means that Auston’s about to give in very easily to whatever Mitch wants. 

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Mitch flutters his eyelashes; it’s probably supposed to be a joke.

“That,” Auston says. “It’s not fair.” 

“You just say that because it works.” 

“That’s correct,” Auston says, grinning a little as Mitch walks over and snakes his arms around the back of his neck. He looks good from this angle, Auston thinks, but then again, Auston thinks that about most angles. 

“Come on,” Mitch says, his voice a little low, and underneath the flirting and the joking, there’s something honest. “You know I like it when you’re cheesy.” 

For the past two years, Auston has woken up every morning a little more in love with Mitch Marner than he’d been when he’d gone to bed that night. That’s not something Auston tells Mitch because he knows it will get Mitch to smile, not something he’s ever said out loud to anyone, not something he came up with in an attempt to find words for exactly how strong his feelings are— it’s just a fact about his daily routine. Auston really lives like that, walks through his day thinking the sky looks like Mitch’s eyes and the sun looks like Mitch’s smile. 

In other words, it’s probably for the best that Mitch likes it when Auston’s cheesy. 

“I mean, you said it’s not a big deal, but— you know.” Auston shrugs. “You’re kind of a big deal to me, is all.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Mitch says, already sounding impossibly fond, and Auston wonders how Mitch would react if he saw all of Auston’s feelings at once. Maybe he can— he’s really good at reading between the lines. Better than Auston, anyway. 

Auston looks down at Mitch’s face, which is so bright and so beautiful that Auston might die from loving it too much, and as he’s leaning in to kiss him—because he can, because he wants to, because he has to, when Mitch looks like this—he thinks that he’s probably the luckiest man on the face of the planet.  

The thought only lasts for about half a second, unfortunately, because the universe chooses that exact moment to have someone knock on the door, causing both of them to jerk back rather abruptly. 

“Hey boys, we’ll need you backstage in ninety seconds. Everything good on your end?” a voice asks through the door. 

“Yeah, thanks, we’ll be right out,” Mitch calls back, and then he turns back to Auston, looking flustered and vaguely apologetic. 

The moment’s probably gone, because that’s how it works, when you’re interrupted, but— 

_ Fuck it,  _ Auston thinks, and when Mitch smirks, he realizes he’d said that out loud, but it doesn’t quite matter, because they’re kissing a second later. 

It’s not their first kiss. It’s not even a particularly long or meaningful kiss. Auston’s kissed Mitch so much over the last few weeks that he figures there can’t be any surprises left— aside from the fake hair falling in his face, there’s nothing new. He knows how Mitch’s lips fit against his, knows the way his back curves into Auston’s grip, knows the way Mitch’s cut-off giggle feels in his mouth. There’s nothing to kissing Mitch that Auston hasn’t already done a million times before. 

But he’s still Auston Matthews, and he’s still kissing Mitch Marner, so of course it’s magical. 

……

Anyway: Auston and Mitch are very good at being boyfriends, but they have a long way to go. 

They talk about it as soon as they’re offstage. Auston’s not even sure they make it that far, even— Mitch is still on his back when he leans forward and starts to say, “My mom kept calling you my boyfriend, and I was so fucking worried that she was gonna call you that to your face and you’d, like, freak out and dump me, or tell me it wasn’t that serious, which was dumb, because you’re, like, definitely obsessed with me, but I couldn’t stop worrying anyway, and that’s why I kept being weird.” 

“That—” Auston stops to return Mitch to the ground. “Makes absolutely no sense.” 

“Trust me, dude, I know.” 

“You acted like you were mad at me,” Auston says, more confused than anything else. 

“It was— I was being a dick,” Mitch says. “It was like, I took a speed bump and turned it into a mountain for no reason.” 

“Nice metaphor, but I’m not sure I follow,” Auston says, throwing an arm over Mitch’s shoulder. 

Mitch looks down at his feet as they walk, and Auston can see out of the corner of his eye that he’s frowning. “It was shitty of me to stress you out for no reason.” 

He looks guilty, almost ashamed, which is sort of strange, because Auston’s not even that hurt. He figures that whatever he’s still not getting about the situation is the part that Mitch is most torn up about, and that’s sort of freaky, but at the same time— Auston’s fine, and Mitch clearly feels bad enough about the whole thing that he probably won’t do it again. 

“We’ll work on it,” Auston says, confident that they will. He doesn’t know that much about relationships, but if this is what the hard parts of it will be like, then he’s pretty sure they’ll be fine. 

“Right,” Mitch says. “As boyfriends?” 

“As boyfriends,” Auston confirms, and he knows that the people around them aren’t actually listening or paying attention to them, but it seems significant, that they’re acting like a couple in front of these people when they’re not pretending to be anonymous, or anything. It’s not the same as telling their friends, but it’s still not nothing, and they’re also— boyfriends. 

Mitch Marner is his  _ boyfriend. _

Auston’s been able to say that in full faith for all of ten seconds, but he can already tell he’ll never get tired of hearing it. 

“I’m glad we did this,” he says. 

“The ballet?” Mitch asks. 

Auston shrugs in agreement, and for some reason, Mitch laughs at that, a fond, gentle thing that he tucks into Auston’s side. 

**Author's Note:**

> les polichinelles are other characters in the nutcracker, and the name is a french translation of pulcinella, who's a commedia dell'arte character. in the nutcracker, the polichinelles live under mother ginger's skirt. i thought that was pretty neat when i was a kid.
> 
> per kristen shilton's [twitter](https://twitter.com/kristen_shilton/status/1075778664841797632):
>
>> Mitch Marner said he and Auston Matthews were told there were two Cannon Doll roles to choose from. His was the act scared, because “I wasn’t going to carry Matts off the stage” 
>> 
>> Matthews, of course, has a history of shoulder injuries, but joked, "I used the good one," to lift Marner. "I warmed it up beforehand."


End file.
